Once prickled senses

Now numbed with screens

Men in metal suits uplifted, saviors

Behind microphones and secret names

True knights of truth hide in the shadows

Afraid of what roundtables may do

Somewhere, nestled in the thicket

Baby birds screech, messengers

Of the impending apocalypse

Nobody listens

Tune them out with lawnmowers

Sound systems

And the droll of our misery and misfortune

Something’s stirring underneath my skin

Electromagnetic currents have me slave

To power structures of greed and malaise

And when the cord is pulled

Do we go out? Do we flicker and whimper?

My disservice to country is a rally cry

To forever serve the universal family

There’s someone wanting to trip the switch

Overload our sensory boards with truth

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